Quietly Dying Inside
by A Thing For Brothers
Summary: Takes place right before Margaret's death to shortly after her funeral. Goes into each of the Eppes men's dealing with her death and the aftereffects. Bad summary, but emotional story. Please read, and enjoy. Get your tissues.
1. When The End Comes

**This story can be considered a companion piece to "Zeroed in On Charlie,"but either can be read alone. It is about when Margaret, Charlie and Don's mom, died and what happened up to a little after her funeral. A lot of angst and drama will now ensue. Be prepared for tears.**

**I do not own the Eppes family, Numb3rs, or anything to do with the show. I just write these stories from my head. I'm not trying to steal anything.**

**Enjoy.**

"Donny!" Alan screamed from his bedroom. He had gone upstairs to check on his wife after he'd made him and his oldest son breakfast. Margaret had been sleeping peacefully beside him when he got out of bed, so he left her to her sleep. Now, when he came back upstairs, she wasn't waking from that sleep.

Don came running up the stairs, two at a time. He had been about to go out the door when he heard his father's panicked call. His heart was racing – not just from running – as he walked into his parents' bedroom. When he saw his mother's calm face, he knew that this was the end.

"We gotta get her to the hospital! You drive!" Alan cried, fear written all over his face. He wasn't ready. He had told himself over and over again that when the time came, he would be ready. But he wasn't ready yet. So he couldn't lose her.

Alan scooped his fragile wife into his arms and carried her to Don's car. He sat with her in the back seat while Don drove quickly to the hospital. Alan held Margaret close, kissing her temple and murmuring to her how it was going to be okay.

"Don't die, love. I still need you," Alan whispered into her ear, pressing his face into the crook of her neck.

Margaret moaned and turned into him. It was the most response Alan had gotten out of her, so he clung to the hope that she would be okay.

"It's going to be all right, sweetheart. Just hold on for me, okay?"

Alan's eyes filled with tears as he thought about her dying. If it wasn't this time, it would only be another. Sooner or later, he was going to lose the love of his life. Tears slipped off his face and onto Margaret's face as he rocked her back and forth.

"Hold on, my darling. Please."

Don briefly looked up in the rearview mirror, and quickly had to look back at the road because the sight made his eyes fill with tears. He blinked rapidly and breathed in deeply, trying to fight his emotions off. Though his father was more open with his emotions than Don, he still rarely showed such weakness and vulnerability. Knowing that his father's words were likely useless broke Don's heart. He didn't want to let his mother go. But what must his father be feeling? After spending over thirty years together, how would Alan feel having his wife leave him for forever?

Knowing he couldn't think about that or he wouldn't be able to drive, Don shook his head and focused on the road.

When they got to the hospital, Alan quickly got out and carried Margaret inside. Don ran ahead and got help. Soon they had Margaret on a rolling bed and the doctors took her back.

With Margaret no longer in his arms, Alan stood, frozen in places, his arms feeling emptier than they ever had before. He stared at the doors that his wife had been taken through, and couldn't bring himself to move.

"Come on, Dad. Let's go sit down," Don said as he put his hand on his father's arm. Numbly, Alan let his son lead him to the ER waiting room chairs.

Alan sat silently for several minutes before he came out of his fear-filled daze. "Did you ask for Dr. Wilson?"

"Yeah, Dad. It's taken care of," Don responded. He had known to ask for Dr. Wilson, Margaret's oncologist. He had made enough trips with his mother to know who to call if something like this happened.

"We left Charlie! We should go get him. He shouldn't be home alone."

Don cringed. His brother would never come. If Charlie couldn't handle their mom when she was dying at home, he wouldn't be able to handle this.

"Dad, I don't think Charlie wants to be here. You know how he's been."

"Exactly! He can't be home alone like this. Please, go get him," Alan begged, his eyes filling with tears. There was too much to think about right now. What if he lost his wife? What if his son needed him? It was too much for him.

"Okay, Dad."

Before Don could take two steps, Dr. Wilson stepped out and headed toward them. Don froze in place and a feeling much like car sickness settled in his stomach. Numbly, he moved back to his seat beside his father and grabbed Alan's hand.

Dr. Wilson's solemn face was enough to put icy blades down Alan's spine. When the doctor spoke, Alan felt like screaming.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Eppes. We... we did all that we could."

Alan's heart shattered to an unfixable state. With a loud cry, he doubled over and buried his face in his hands. The sobs came from somewhere deep inside, and made such pain-filled cries that Dr. Wilson even felt tears come to his eyes. Before the doctor left, Alan raised his tear-stained face and asked if he could see her. The doctor obliged, taking him back to see Margaret one more time.

Looking at his still wife, Alan's tears poured down his face. Her eyes were closed as she lay peacefully on a hospital bed. Alan moved to the bed and sat down, scooping her limp body into his arms. For a moment he just stared at her once-lively face. Then it struck him that she would never talk to him again, never smile, never breathe, never open her eyes. She would no longer live. And that was killing him.

"No!" Alan screamed before pressing his face into Margaret's neck. Holding her tightly against his chest, Alan rocked back and forth, weeping for his lost love. His tears wet her cooling skin and her silk nightgown.

"No! Don't die! Please, don't leave me. I love you, Margaret. Please, please, stay with me... Don't leave me. I still need you."

Alan looked into her face, half expecting her to listen and miraculously open her eyes and tell him she was fine. But her kind heart no longer beat for anyone. The world had lost an angel, his angel. And now he felt alone.

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Don waited for his father to leave before he went to the restroom. Looking angry, he entered a stall and pounded his fist against its wall. As his fist came back, the tears simultaneously began to fall. He pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle his cries and slid down the opposite wall he had punched. Touching the floor, he was overcome by tears and sobs.

His mother was gone. All those years Don had spent away came crashing back, taunting him for missing precious time with her. Guilt surrounded him like a warm blanket, causing more tears to come.

Don didn't know what to do. He had known he was going to lose her soon, but nothing had prepared him for it. Knowing that he had a very limited amount of time with his mother had scared Don half to death. He had spent so much time with her since he had transferred to Los Angeles. But it would never be enough.

Parents were supposed to die before their children, but not when they were barely fifty-three. Margaret Eppes had so much life left in her. If only she hadn't gotten cancer. She had had so much to offer the world, but she had cruelly been taken too soon. Don didn't think it was fair.

When he was able to compose himself enough to face the world, a world without his mother, Don went to the sink and rinsed his red eyes, trying to erase the signs of tears, though it was expected since he'd just lost his mother. He had to get his father and take him home.

Alan was standing beside Dr. Wilson, listening to the doctor talk about something Don couldn't hear. As he neared, Alan turned and saw him. Though his own grief was still strong, he opened his arms wide and stepped toward his son, ready to offer comfort.

Don gave a broken smile and stepped into his father's arms. The two began to cry once more, as they held onto each other. Their pain was more than they could bear.

"Let's go home," Alan said, leading his son by the shoulders. Don willingly followed, knowing he would need to drive. As they drove home, both felt the absence of Margaret with them. They knew it wasn't right. She was supposed to be with them, but she wouldn't be making any trips home with them... ever again.

Sadly Alan walked up the sidewalk, into the home he and Margaret had made together. They'd spent most of their lives in that house. And now that she was gone, it just didn't feel like home.

Wanting to be alone, Alan went up the stairs into the room he had shared with his wife. He laid down on her side of the bed, pressed his face to the pillow and breathed in her scent. The tears started once more, and he couldn't keep from crying out her name.

Don knew that when his father went upstairs, it was his duty to inform his brother about their mother's death. Originally, Don had planned to take it upon himself to tell Charlie, so it didn't matter. He wondered if Charlie would even react.

Tentatively Don walked to the garage, opening the door just a slit first to look in. As usual, Charlie was standing in front of a chalkboard, writing furiously. Don slowly entered and when he reached his brother, he tried getting Charlie's attention.

"Charlie? Charlie?" Don spoke his brother's name, raising his voice with each time. When that didn't work, he grabbed his little brother by the shoulders.

"Charlie, look at me."

Charlie pushed, and tried to keep working, walking out of Don's grasp. Refusing to let go, Don held on tightly and waited for his brother to look at him.

"Charlie!" Don shouted, growing impatient.

As though a switch had been flipped, Charlie suddenly looked at Don. Staring blankly, he waited for Don to say something.

"Buddy, I'm so sorry. Mom... Mom died," Don said softly, trying to push away the anger he felt toward his brother.

Backing up sharply, Charlie got out of his brother's hold and kept walking backwards until he hit a chair, and stumbled.

"No. No, she can't be dead."

"Well, I'm sorry, Buddy, but she is." Don was surprised that he was talking to his brother. It had been so long.

As if gaining strength, Charlie stepped forward and up to his brother. "No. She... she can't be dead. It's supposed to work. I'm going to save her. So she can't be dead."

Charlie stood face-to-face with his brother. Looking as angry as Don had ever seen him, Charlie jabbed a finger into his brother's chest. "You're lying."

Don was shocked. "Charlie! How could I lie about something like that?"

"You're lying! She isn't dead! She isn't dead! You're a liar! I'm going to save her. You'll see!" Charlie screamed at his brother, pounding on Don's chest and shoulders.

Don swiftly grabbed his brother in his arms and held him tightly so Charlie couldn't fight him.

"No! You're lying! Let go of me!" Charlie yelled, hysterical.

"Charlie! Charlie, calm down!" Don screamed near his brother's ear, trying to get him to settle down.

As the fight slowly left Charlie, he stopped yelling and went limp in Don's arms. He sank to the floor, with Don by his side.

"Mom!" Charlie screamed after a moment of shocked silence. Then he hugged himself as the tears fell down his face and gut-wrenching sobs built up. Don's tears came once more and he hugged his brother. Charlie remained stiff as he cried, not hugging Don back. The sobs turned into hysterical screams and Charlie was no longer aware of what sounds he made.

In an effort to calm his brother down, Don gripped Charlie tightly to him. He rocked with Charlie back and forth, trying to soothe the heartbroken cries. Soon Charlie reacted enough to hang onto Don in a white-knuckle grip. His cries gradually began to fade until Charlie just sat in silence.

"Are you going to be okay?" Don asked when his brother wouldn't speak to him. He didn't get an answer, so he stood up to leave. Before he got to the door, Charlie spoke.

"Come get me for the funeral."

Don turned back and looked at Charlie. He smiled sadly at his brother. "I will."

Don stepped outside the garage, but watched from a small window to see what his brother would do.

Charlie stayed on the floor for several minutes, then stood and went to a chalkboard. His movements were sloppy, as though he had lost his train of thought. When he went back to the boards, he wrote for a little while, but then, suddenly, stopped. Staring at the writing, Charlie looked at the meaningless words. And then, he turned from it and got down on his knees and cried... because there was no point anymore. Because his mom was gone.

**This is the first part of it. It will go on in a little bit more depth of each of the Eppes men's feelings about Margaret's death, and like I say, go a little bit past Margaret's funeral. I hope you liked the first chapter. It made me cry a little, so you know it's sad.**


	2. How Do You Say Goodbye?

Charlie wondered what the point in trying was anymore as he wrote on the chalkboard. He had been working to solve P vs. NP, which, apparently, was unsolvable. He believed that if he could, he would save his mother. But now she was dead. He had failed her.

Charlie clenched his teeth as his eyes filled with tears once more. He couldn't think about her being gone. It was going to kill him. But today, according to his older brother, was when his mother's funeral was. It was his last chance to see her. If he had only gone to her sooner... But Charlie wasn't sure he would have had it in him to see her, knowing he would have to say goodbye. And it wasn't like he was allowed to leave anyway.

Defeated, Charlie slowly wrote on the chalkboard. The sun had just risen when the garage door opened and Don stepped inside. Charlie stopped writing and stared at the board in front of him.

"It's time, isn't it?" he asked, still not looking at his older brother.

"Yeah, Buddy. It's time."

Charlie nodded and his lip quivered. He took a deep breath, trying to stop it, and turned from the board. He had to fight it. He had to pull away. But his mind screamed at him to stay, that he would only get hurt if he left the garage. But Charlie knew he had to risk that for his mother. If this was his last chance, he couldn't miss it.

Don stepped back and let his little brother walk to the door. Charlie hesitated at the door, and just stared a moment before opening the door. Once he did, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the outside world. His heart raced as his mind told him that this was dangerous, but Charlie managed to ignore it.

"Come on, Buddy. Let's go inside," Don said as he rested a gentle hand on his brother's bony shoulder. Charlie flinched under his brother's hand, but he allowed the touch. When he made it to the house, he looked at it with new eyes. His mother wasn't in front of the stove, fixing a large breakfast for her men, as she fondly used to say. Stepping through the kitchen, he made it to the wide living room. His mother wasn't on the couch, curled up with a good book. She wasn't there to look up at him when he walked in and invite him over to sit by her. And then Charlie went upstairs to his room. And down the hall, in his parents' bedroom, she was not sleeping, dying of cancer. She wasn't there at all.

Feeling a sick feeling in his stomach, Charlie slammed the door of his room, and stared wide-eyed around him. His mother had bought him that comforter on his bed. She had sat there and read him stories when he was younger. She'd tended to him when he was sick. She had come in every night to kiss him on the forehead and tell him how much she loved him. She had always been there. And now that she wasn't, Charlie didn't recognize his own home.

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Alan stepped out of his room after hearing a door slam. He went downstairs when he saw Don staring up the steps.

"Was that Charlie?"

Don nodded, silent.

"You mean he came inside?"

"Yeah. He just did." Don, too, was surprised that his brother came inside. After three months, Don didn't really expect him to come inside so quickly. He was proud of his brother's strength, and for the moment, that helped him forget his anger toward Charlie.

"I'll start some breakfast. Okay?" Alan said, realizing his sons needed some time alone.

"Okay," Don said, and went up the steps and into his old room. He had vacated it for the majority of the past three months, so he had his clothes in there. It would be the worst outfit he'd ever put on, and Don wondered if he'd ever be able to look at the black outfit the same way.

But for now, Don just sat on his bed. He soaked up the silence, giving him time to think. But halfway through his silence, it was broken by a wail coming from the other side of his wall, his brother's room.

Hearing his brother's anguished cry pushed Don over the edge. His eyes filled with tears and a choked sob escaped his lips. He pressed his hands to his face, absorbing the tears that poured out of his face.

This was so hard. He had never expected to lose his mother like this. And he never expected it to be so hard on his family. Charlie locked himself in the garage. Alan wouldn't talk about it. And Don... well, he couldn't seem to forgive himself for being away so long, and he certainly couldn't forgive his brother for ignoring their mother for three months.

But Don was the strong one. He had to be for his father and brother. So he would wipe away his tears, put on an emotionless face, and get them through this. He could do that.

When Don's face showed no signs of tears, he left his room and went downstairs. His father was making pancakes for his two sons when Don walked in.

"The first batch is ready, Donny, if you want to go get Charlie."

Don nodded. "I'll go get him."

Don turned and headed back to the stairs. He went to his brother's room and found Charlie crying in his bed, under the covers.

"Hey, Buddy. Pancakes are ready."

Charlie just tightened his hold on the blanket at his chin and stared ahead of him. "I'm not hungry."

Knowing that by Charlie's almost skeletal form that that couldn't be true, Don frowned. "Come on. You have to be hungry. Won't you eat something?"

"No. I'm fine."

Don knew that statement had to be even more false than the one before. Don sighed.

"Do you want me to bring you something?" He fought to keep the anger out of his voice.

Charlie shook his head. "Just leave me."

Don nodded, resigned. "Fine."

He turned and walked away. He closed the door behind him, and as soon as he did, he heard Charlie begin to cry. It had been obvious that his brother had been since he got in his room. But it still hurt Don to hear it.

Don went back to the kitchen and sat at the table. "Charlie's not coming."

"Why? He's got to be half-starved!" Alan said as he turned quickly.

"I know. He said he's not hungry."

Alan sighed. "Fine. If he's not hungry, he won't get anything."

Angrily, Alan placed a plateful of six pancakes in front of Don. "Here! Eat!"

Don looked up, surprised at the anger in his father's voice. "Dad?"

"What? You don't like my cooking? Is it not good enough for you? Eat it!"

Don pushed back from the table and stood. "Dad?"

Alan turned his back on his son. "What?" Don could hear the breaking in his father's voice.

Gently, Don touched his father's shoulders. "Dad."

Alan turned and looked at his son, tears shining in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Donny. I... I didn't mean to yell."

"I know, Dad. I know." Don looked at his father, concerned. When they both remained silent for several minutes, Alan spoke.

"It's just... It's my last day to see her. And I don't know what to do." As he stopped talking, the tears formed more and spilled onto his face. Alan placed a hand on his mouth, but the sob was still heard. Don fought off his own tears as he took his father in his open arms and hugged him tightly. Alan held onto his son, pressing his face into his son's shoulder. He closed his eyes as the tears still came. He wanted to be strong, but he didn't know how when he had to say goodbye to the love of his life.

Alan roughly pushed out of his son's arms, trying to be strong. "I'm fine... You'd better eat your pancakes before they get cold."

Don nodded, respecting that his father wanted to be strong. He went back to the table and took off the top four pancakes and at his two. Having nothing to do with his father's cooking, the pancakes tasted bland in his mouth and seemed to settle in his throat. He was only able to force down one pancake before he had to stop. Then he went through the living room, pausing when his father spoke from the couch.

"I guess it's time to get ready."

Don nodded sadly. The visitation was at eight-thirty and then the funeral would follow after. He went upstairs so he could get ready. He got in the shower and hoped Alan and Charlie would be okay in the short time he'd be inside.

Alan thought he would wait a few minutes before he went upstairs to his room to get in the shower. However, he was drawn to his youngest son. He hadn't talked to Charlie in months, and he hadn't been to see him since Margaret's death. Knowing it was high time he went to him, Alan stood and went up the stairs to Charlie's room.

Through the door, Alan could hear his son's sobs. When he opened the door and stepped inside, his heart broke for his youngest son. Burrowed in the covers with his face down in the pillow, Charlie looked the picture of misery. Alan gently sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled a cover back so he could see his son's face better.

"Hey, kiddo."

Charlie sniffled and turned his face toward his father. He just stared up at Alan, his eyes wide and full of pain.

"Are you all right?"

Charlie pressed his face back into the pillow at that question. Of course he wasn't all right. He was awful. He wanted his mother.

Alan sighed. "I guess that was a stupid question, huh?"

Charlie nodded against the pillows.

"I miss her, too."

Charlie's face scrunched up as he felt the tears begin again. He was tired of crying, but unless his mother came in to see him, he didn't expect to stop crying for a long time.

"Oh, Charlie." Alan heard his son begin to cry again, and he lifted Charlie's light form up against him. He hugged his son close to him and Charlie latched onto him like he was a life preserver. Charlie sobbed as he pressed his face in the crook of Alan's neck and grabbed fistfuls of his father's shirt. Alan held onto his son in a comforting grasp.

"Sh, sh," Alan tried to soothe his son's cries, but only got a louder yelp in return. Alan felt the tears wet his shirt and his own tears came for his son's anguish.

When Don got out of the shower, he heard his baby brother practically screaming. Fearing that he'd been in the shower too long, Don quickly dressed and ran to his brother's room. He flung the door open and found his father holding a crying Charlie in his arms. Seeing so much pain written on his brother's face brought a pang to Don's heart. He came over to Charlie's bed and sat on the other side of his brother. Tentatively, Don reached out and placed his hand on his brother's back and moved it in a circle, soothingly.

"It's going to be okay, Buddy."

Charlie turned his head from his father's neck and looked at his older brother, wincing as he saw Don's black attire. _No, it won't_ was written across his face. Don wished he could reassure his brother, but he wasn't sure if he believed himself either.

When Alan and Don left, Charlie got a shower and dressed. How much weight he'd lost was apparent as Charlie's clothes hung off his thin frame. He had to tighten his belt almost to the last notch. He looked ridiculous in the shirt that seemed to swallow him. It was obvious that he was too skinny for his outfit, but right now, he didn't care.

Don looked even sadder when he saw his brother come down the stairs, ready to go. His little brother's clothes were way too big for him now. Don hoped that soon that would be remedied. For now, his clothes would have to hang off him. He put his arm across his brother's shoulders and led him outside to the car, where they would do the hardest thing in their lives so far.

Bury their mother.

**I was expecting to get to the funeral in this chapter, but I came up with a lot of other stuff before then. I hope you're enjoying this, despite crying at it. This was a story line I always told myself I wouldn't do because it's too sad, but I really felt that I could write it. Thank you to my five reviewers! I had some trouble with feeling inspired to write because the reviews were coming in so slowly. If you do like it, please leave at least a little review so I know I'm not completely ruining this story and doing a horrible job. That's how I know that I know it's okay.**

**I'll see you with the next chapter. I expect two more, but it might be less, and possibly more. We'll see!**


	3. When You Can't Forgive Yourself

The three Eppes men solemnly stood at the receiving line at Margaret's visitation. Charlie was the most miserable, barely able to stand up as he listened to these people talk about his mother using the past tense. Every once in a while there would be a pause in people, and Don would take that opportunity to place a steadying hand on Charlie's shoulder, making it seem easier for Charlie to remain standing. Every hug, every handshake, seemed like another blow to Charlie. By the end of the day, he wondered if he would be able to hold himself up.

The grim faces didn't add to Charlie's pleasure either. Every sob that rang out reminded him of his own pain, and he wanted to fall apart all over again. But for his family's sake, and for his mother, he tried to stay strong. But then it was time for them to say their last goodbye's at Margaret's open casket... and Charlie didn't think he'd be able to survive.

Don held his arm as they walked up the steps onto the small church's stage. In the back lay her casket, where people had gone by to pay their last respects to a wonderful woman. As Charlie neared, he held tightly to Don's hand and his heart beat fast in his chest.

First Don and Charlie stayed back, allowing their father a moment with his wife. Alan's tears flowed once again as he bent over and whispered to his wife.

"I love you, sweetheart." Straightening, Alan cleared his throat and wiped his wet eyes and traded places beside Charlie as Don went up.

Even strong, fearless Don couldn't hold back the tears as he said his final goodbye to his mother. He couldn't see her at first as the tears filled his eyes. Then he gruffly cleared his throat. "Goodbye, Mom. I love you."

Don's tears slipped down his cheek as he reached out and touched his mother's cold hand and gave it a loving squeeze. Then he turned, no sign of the tears, and let Charlie take his turn.

Stumbling, Charlie took his first step toward saying goodbye. With each step, a piece of his heart broke off. When he could see his mother's still body, he choked on a sob. One more step and he stumbled onto her casket. Hanging onto the edges, he looked down at his mother's face.

"I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry."

Sobbing, he leaned over and hugged his mother's limp body. "I'm so sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry I failed you."

Like he did when he was a little boy, he pressed his tear-streaked face into his mother's shoulder and cried. "I'm sorry!"

Clinging to his dead mother, Charlie sobbed. "I love you, Mom. I love you so much. Please, please, don't leave me."

Broken by his failure to save his mother's life, Charlie cried his apologies. He would never see her again after this moment. He had to let her know how sorry he was, and how much he loved her. If he had only been able to see her sooner. Then he could have told her while she would have understood. Did she understand? Charlie hoped, since his mother had always been the only one to truly understand him... and now she was gone.

"Charlie," Don said when Charlie didn't leave after several minutes had passed. But Charlie couldn't leave her. It couldn't be goodbye. He wasn't ready. He tightened his hold on the outer edges of her casket. He couldn't leave. He couldn't say goodbye. It would kill him.

"No," Charlie cried when Don gripped his shoulders.

"Come on, Buddy. It's time to say goodbye."

Charlie sobbed and shook his head quickly back and forth. "I can't. I-I can't say goodbye. I can't!"

Don's tears returned for his brother's pain. Firmly holding onto Charlie's upper arms, Don tugged. "It's time, Buddy."

Charlie's face became a fountain of tears.

"No! No, you can't leave me, Mom! I need you!" Charlie screamed to his mother as he gripped her limp hand in his. "Please, don't leave me. I'll solve it for you. Please, don't make me say goodbye. I can't!"

Don knew that his brother didn't have it in him to leave their mother's side. Taking the initiative to lead him away, Don began to pull Charlie away from Margaret's casket.

"No! Mom! Don't go!"

Charlie couldn't leave her. So how could she leave him? He needed his mother. Didn't she see that?

Tearing out of Don's hold, Charlie reached her casket once more. He pressed his forehead against the outside of the casket. "I'm so sorry, Mom. Please, forgive me. Don't go. Please, don't go."

Don tried to take Charlie away again, but Charlie fought him off. "I love you, Mom. I'm sorry I didn't come see you."

As Don dragged his broken little brother away from Margaret's casket, Charlie screamed his last minute goodbyes to his mother. There were still so many things to say. He couldn't just let her go without knowing how much he loved her, and how sorry he was... and how much he needed her.

Unable to hold himself up, Don kept Charlie standing by wrapping his arm across his little brother's back. Charlie's tears streamed down his face and he couldn't take it anymore. He turned into his brother and hugged Don for his own comfort.

Don was surprised that his brother hugged him, and Don reached down and hugged him back. Charlie's tears were absorbed by Don's black suit jacket as he pressed his face tightly against Don's chest. Don's tears slipped down his face in slow paths and he closed his eyes and buried his face in Charlie's hair, hiding his tears.

Alan had known how hard it was going to be on his sons, but seeing it now brought another ache to his heart. Margaret's absence was going to take a toll on his family, himself including. He hated to think that his boys wouldn't get to see there mother again, especially since Charlie had spent so long without seeing her. Alan hoped that he would be able to hold his family together, when their world had just fallen apart.

"Sh, it's okay, Buddy," Don soothed as he held Charlie up. His brother's thin body seemed even more fragile as Don hugged Charlie. He wondered if his little brother had even bothered to eat half the time he or Alan had brought food out to the garage. Charlie had been more than distant the past three months; he had been completely oblivious to the world around him. Don knew now that the world had come rushing back to him, it had hit Charlie hard.

Next the Eppes men gathered into one of the cars of the funeral procession. Charlie heaved each breath as he fought to stop crying. Alan and Don took turns trying to calm him, but nothing helped. Near panic, Charlie couldn't breathe normally as he thought of his mother being buried. He wouldn't even be able to see her again. She was completely leaving him. All that would be left would be a marble gravestone in her place. It would never be enough.

When they arrived at the cemetery, they all got out of the car. Charlie was last, and Don held out his hand to help his brother out. Ignoring his brother's extended hand, Charlie got out on his own.

"You don't have to do this," Don said when they reached the hearse carrying their mother's casket.

"Yes, I do." Charlie stubbornly took his place as a pallbearer. Don nodded, trusting his brother to know what he could and could not do.

With what strength was left in his body, Charlie carried his share of his mother's casket. He never faltered in his steps, never once felt the weight too heavy. He carried his share with dignity and strength, more than he had shown throughout the rest of the day. It was his last victory for his mother. He was able to do that for her, but it would never be enough to make up for leaving her for the past three months.

After the funeral ended, Alan stepped up to his wife's now-closed casket. He gently placed a single red rose on her grave, a gift he had given her every year on her birthday. Reminding her of his love for her, Alan whispered, "I love you," and walked away.

Don kissed the tips of his fingers and then brought them down to rest on top of the casket. "I love you, Mom."

Charlie's lower lip began to tremble again as he stepped up to his mother's casket. It was time to say the words he had dreaded saying all day. He had wanted to refuse, but he knew he had to. But knowing what the one little word meant was torturing Charlie.

Charlie caressed the wooden casket lovingly, and his tears slipped onto it. Fighting to get the word out, Charlie began to cry. He stared down at the closed wooden case. He just stared, thinking about all that his mother would take with her to the grave. Unable to stay for long, as much as he wanted to, Charlie knew it was now or never.

"Goodbye," Charlie choked out, his voice high-pitched from the emotions overwhelming him. He had to hurry to turn away. He had never been able to say goodbye well. There was no way now that he would be able to stand there and tell his mother goodbye. It was just too hard.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Charlie returned to his family. Proudly, Don wrapped his arm across his little brother's shoulders. Turning, the three Eppes men returned to their car, and returned to their house – no longer home, since Margaret wouldn't be there.

Charlie reached his room in an almost dazed state. Don and Alan had been equally silent when they arrived back at their house, so Charlie decided to seek solitude once more. Back in his room, he sat down on the bed heavily, then fell sideways onto the pillow. Staring ahead of him, Charlie brought the covers over his body, shivering in spite of the warmth of the house. As though it took a while for what just happened to sink in, he laid on the bed for over twenty minutes, just staring. When it hit him that he'd never see his mother again, Charlie's sobs could be heard by even their neighbors.

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Each of the Eppes men had gone to their own room. It seemed like they all wanted solitude at a time like this. Don had been in his room, fighting off his tears, when he heard his little brother's sobs begin. Unable to just listen to his brother's pain, Don got up and left his room and entered Charlie's.

Charlie's face was pressed into his blanket-covered hands. His tears dampened the soft material as he hid from the world. Don sat beside his little brother, understanding Charlie's misery.

"Buddy?" Don said as he gently lifted his brother up, pulling the blanket away from Charlie's face. Charlie choked on his sobs, gasping with each breath.

"I can't. I can't do this. I can't go on like this without Mom... And what I did to her... I can never forgive myself."

Don listened frighteningly to his brother, fearing Charlie was contemplating suicide. He couldn't handle that, too. And he wouldn't allow it to happen.

"No, Buddy. You can go on. Dad and I are still here. We love you and we'll help you get through this, okay? We'll be okay, I promise."

"No, I can't. I c-c-can't live with myself after what I put Mom through... I should have been there. I could have come sooner. I should have fought harder." Charlie's sobs built up as he realized how right he was, and how wrong he had been. If only had been able to come to her sooner.

"Charlie, listen to me. You are going to be all right. Mom... Mom forgave you. She understood. She never blamed you or resented you for it. She was okay with you being gone. Please, Charlie. Stop this. Mom wouldn't want you doing this."

As panic settled in, Charlie's mind began to taunt him again. He thought he had pushed it away for now, and he'd be able to go back to the real world. But now it came crashing back to him.

_"Told you the world was cruel. Told you you shouldn't leave. You knew you'd only get hurt. The world is a dangerous place. You can't escape the pain. That's why you have to hide from it. Hide and you won't get hurt. Hide and no one will care when you're gone. Hide, create your own world where it's only you. You can at least trust yourself. Then you'll be fine. If it's just you, there will be no one else to hurt you."_

Charlie sobbed, lurching forward. "I can't stay here."

Don frowned, staring at his brother. "What?"

"I can't... I can't stay."

With a quick glance at his brother, Charlie ran out of the room. Don worriedly followed, finding that his brother was going to the garage once more. Close on his brother's heels, Don made it to the garage door, but then it was slammed in his face. Charlie locked the door, so he couldn't get in.

Don hurried over to the window to look inside. He watched as Charlie practically collapsed on the floor. Charlie crawled into the center of his walled fortress, made up of chalkboards. There, Charlie tried to find his safe feeling once again. Surrounded by his chalkboard home, Charlie still didn't feel secure, so he picked up a piece of chalk and started writing. Then he felt better, as he entered his world once again. His world was better. In his world he could pretend his mother was still alive. It was just him, and he was okay.

As Don watched his brother reenter the world that had taken him away three months ago, he knew that he had to check on his brother more often. He didn't trust his brother being alone, so it seemed he'd be staying at his family's house even longer. Because Don feared that if he didn't, Charlie would never come out of the garage, or he'd do something drastic... and that, Don would not allow.

**Hey, guys! Sorry it took a while to update. I've just been kinda slow this week. I'm starting school next week, which will possibly delay the next chapter. I hope not, though, since this is the first week of school.**

**I hope you liked this chapter. It made me cry, even, so you know it was sad. LOL More to come!**


	4. How Do You Let Yourself Live?

Don didn't keep as good of an eye on Charlie as he would have liked. Life went on for him, and he returned to work. But each night he made sure he was the one to give Charlie his supper, that seemed to always go uneaten. Don knew enough of his brother to know Charlie was too lost in his own world to join Don's, so Don knew that his brother was going to be okay alone in the garage. But after over a week had passed since their mother's death, Don realized that Charlie hadn't eaten a bite.

More than angry with his brother, Don fixed his brother's plate for supper. He filled it completely, even bothering to put a large roll on the side. He would make his brother eat it if it took all night. He was glad that his father was gone for the night, trying to lessen the pain by spending the night away. Don hoped that would help his father, but he wasn't really sure it would.

Charlie was more than lost in his own protected world. There was an emptiness inside, but he was still able to fill it with math. A nagging feeling inside reminded him that his mother was dead, but in his own world, he was able to ignore it, and think that she was alive. He was so caught up in solving P vs. NP that he didn't realize the outside world was about to come crashing into him... literally.

Don couldn't stand seeing his brother writing on the chalkboard. Anger that he'd been feeling since before their mother's death came rushing back to him. Taking that anger out, he charged his brother and shoved him hard, pushing Charlie painfully into the chalkboard in front of him.

Charlie barely reacted in time to the shove, it having caught him by surprise. He was too late to put his hands in front of him, and the left side of his face smashed into the chalkboard. Realizing he was no longer in his own world, Charlie was surprised to find his brother's angry face as Don charged at him once more.

Don pulled Charlie down on the ground. He pinned his stunned little brother's arms above his head. Charlie squirmed beneath him, but Don didn't loosen his hold. He kept Charlie's hands pinned to the ground and with his free hand, he reached up and grabbed the roll off of Charlie's plate of food. He began to shove it toward Charlie's mouth. When his brother's fear-filled eyes closed tightly, Charlie also shut his mouth.

"EAT IT!" Don screamed, angrier than he had ever sounded before.

Charlie flinched as his eyes opened to look at his brother. He still wouldn't open his mouth, food being the last thing he wanted in the world.

Seeing that his brother was still not going to eat, Don decided to play rough again. He slapped Charlie across the face, and when Charlie went "ow," Don shoved the roll in his brother's mouth.

Charlie's eyes were surprised when the large piece of roll was forced into his mouth. Nearly gagging on the piece of bread, Charlie coughed.

"Don't you dare spit that out," Don warned in a threatening tone. Scared, Charlie obeyed and began to chew, breathing hard through his nose. His cheek ached, having been slapped and shoved into the hard chalkboard. His wrists were burning from the pressure Don put on them, making sure he wouldn't fight.

With his mouth overstuffed, Charlie's cheeks puffed out like those of a chipmunks. It would have been funny, had it been a different time. Right now, though, Charlie and Don stared at each other, and they recognized how angry Don really was.

Swallowing the offending food, Charlie breathed deeply. For a moment, Don and Charlie continued to stare at one another. When Don got off his brother, Charlie sat up, rubbing his sore wrists and the left side of his face.

Don backed away from his brother, afraid he might act out in violence once more. He didn't want to hurt his brother, and he was sorry that he had. His mother had always told him how to handle Charlie, since she knew both her sons so well. That would be something Don missed, as well, and he was afraid Charlie would start missing it, too.

Charlie felt the nausea rising and he gave Don a glare before he got up and ran to the bathroom. He stumbled into the bathroom, dropping down on his knees in front of the toilet to empty his stomach. It seemed he hadn't obeyed Don after all.

Don followed close behind Charlie and waited outside the bathroom. He felt bad for making Charlie sick. He should have known that forced food go down well for someone who hadn't eaten in weeks. He waited for Charlie to leave, ready to apologize.

When Charlie came out of the bathroom, he looked worse than he had when he went in. It was because reality returned to him once more, making him fully aware of his pain and sadness over his mother's death. Knowing his brother was so angry with him did nothing to help with that either.

Don looked sadly at his brother when Charlie stepped out of the bathroom. He could see how his hurting his brother had affected Charlie.

"Buddy, I'm so sorry. I... I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

Charlie nodded. It didn't matter. He deserved to be hurt, didn't he? He didn't deserve to be treated well. Charlie had stayed away from his mother, the only one who ever truly understood him. How could he have done that to her? Couldn't he have fought off his own mind to go to her? But the truth was, he hadn't wanted to fight to get to her. He had wanted to hide. Because watching his mother die would be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, and it would have killed him... like it was now.

Charlie started to walk past his older brother, but Don reached out and gripped his arm. Charlie looked up at him, seeing only a hint of the anger he'd seen before.

"You need to eat something."

The thought of food made Charlie's stomach churn. He knew he should be hungry. He hadn't eaten in who knew how long. So Charlie should eat. But he wasn't hungry.

Don took Charlie to the kitchen and pushed him down into a chair.

"Don't move," Don ordered while he went out to the garage to get Charlie's dinner plate. When he returned, Charlie wasn't there, as he had already half expected. He set down the plat on the kitchen table and walked through the living room toward the stairs, wondering where Charlie went. Don searched Charlie's room, his room, and then his parents' room. When he didn't see him in any of the rooms in the house, Don began to worry. He knew his brother couldn't have gotten that far, since he had only been gone for a few minutes. He retraced his search, and if it hadn't been for a quiet sob, Don wasn't sure he would have found Charlie.

Moving to his parents' closet, he found Charlie huddled on the floor, laying against their mother's robe. Don's heart went out toward his brother. He had remembered Charlie doing this before when their mother had been gone for a week to help a sick family member when they were little. Charlie had gone to their parents' closet to breathe in his mother's scent, just to comfort himself. Seeing Charlie do it now nearly broke Don's heart.

"Hey, Buddy," Don said as he sat on the floor outside the closet.

Charlie barely glanced at his brother. He breathed in his mother's robe, absorbing the scent that was unique to her, the smell that meant Mom. It smelled faintly like roses and cinnamon. It was Mom. Charlie feared the day when the scent would fade.

Slowly Charlie crawled out of the closet toward his brother. He stopped at the opening at just stared at Don. Don's eyes softened as he looked at his little brother's tears.

"Come here, little buddy."

Charlie began to cry again as he moved into his brother's open arms. Misery never felt so bad. He wanted his mother, but she would never be there to comfort him again. So instead he found comfort in the arms of his older brother. It wasn't the same, but it was all he had.

Don wished he could get his brother back. Though he had spent so much time away from his brother, he knew Charlie wasn't always this way. Charlie had never been one to lock himself up for so long. And he certainly wasn't the kind to avoid their mom. Something had changed while Don had been away. There was something new to his brother's lifestyle. Charlie wasn't the same. And so what was it that made the difference?

Charlie was sick of playing this game. He was tired of battling his own mind. Lately, Charlie had been purposely losing the game of life. He didn't want to win his fight against his own mind, because if he did, then he'd be back in the real world, the real life. And that was not the life he wanted to join. The make-believe world he created was one that guaranteed no pain. The only thing that he had to sacrifice was the win.

But now he needed that to change. Though the pain would be let in, Charlie knew he had to take that risk. It was time to stop hiding. He couldn't stay away from the real world forever, despite what his mind told him. So now, he was going to fight back. The only problem was, he wasn't sure he was going to win.

Once Charlie's tears had dried, Don led him downstairs into the kitchen. His brother's plate was still sitting on the table, so Don picked it up and put it in the microwave. When he placed the plate in front of Charlie, Don patted his brother on the shoulder.

Charlie's head was hung low as he looked at the unappealing food before him. It was his first step, he supposed. If he could eat his supper, it would be one step closer to success. Tentatively, Charlie picked up his fork. As he brought his first bite to his mouth, Charlie felt his stomach roll... surprisingly, with hunger.

Don sat across from his younger brother and watched Charlie slowly begin to eat his supper. Don was proud of Charlie for being able to eat, even cleaning off the whole plate. It was definite progress.

When Charlie was finished, he looked up at Don, as if to say, "What next?" Don could see the obvious sign of a bruise about to start on Charlie's left cheek. Don once again felt bad for lashing out at his little brother. Reaching out toward his brother, Don was about to touch the lightly colored bruise when Charlie flinched. Frowning, Don put his hand down.

"I'm sorry, Buddy. Really."

Charlie nodded, looking down toward the right. He could feel his brother's eyes on him, so he didn't turn his head. He didn't want to see Don's face. He would lose his nerve if he did.

"You're mad at me."

Don was surprised Charlie even brought it up. He wasn't really sure what to say. But it turned out, he didn't have to.

"You don't have to say it. I already know it's true. And... I don't blame you."

Don studied his brother's downcast face. He wondered what all his brother did already know. It seemed Charlie knew even more than people understood.

"I'll... I'm going to try to be better, Don. I just... it may take me a while, okay?"

Don smiled, though his brother wouldn't look at him. He pushed down the anger, knowing that Charlie was going to at least try harder. It was enough for Don to know that Charlie was back. He was going to fight. Which meant he'd make it.

"I'm, uh, I'm going up to my room. Okay?"

Don nodded toward his brother's question. Without even getting his answer, Charlie stood from the table and left for his room. Don cleaned up Charlie's small amount of dishes and then went to the living room to watch TV. He was surprised when almost an hour later, his father came home.

"Dad! What are you doing back already? Is everything okay?" Don said as he got up from the couch to help his father with his few bags.

"I'm... I'm fine, Donny. I just need to be home. How's Charlie?"

"I'm okay, Dad. How are you?" Charlie said from the top of the stairs, having heard his father's entrance.

"Charlie! You're... you're, uh..."

"Yeah," Charlie simply replied, understanding that his dad didn't know quite how to put it. He was back, at least for now. It just depended on how his fight against himself turned out.

"Did you boys eat already? I can make you something."

"No, Dad. That's okay. We both ate," Don answered, sneaking a glance up the steps at his brother.

"Oh. Well, I'll just go to my room then. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Yes, Dad. We're fine."

After hearing his sons say they were fine, Alan felt okay enough to go into his room. He passed Charlie at the top of the steps. He was pleased his son was back in the house.

"You need something, Buddy?" Don asked from the bottom of the steps.

"No." Charlie turned and went back to his room. Soon Don heard the shower running, and knew it was Charlie's. He hoped that soon they'd be getting things back to normal, as normal as they could without their mother.

Don wasn't sure what more he could do at his family's house. Realizing it was time, he decided it was time to go back to his apartment. Though his father was obviously still dealing with his grief, and Charlie was just now coming out of the garage, Don figured that was progress enough. So he went upstairs to pack his bags. It was time to go.

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Charlie was surprised when he kept his supper down. He supposed that the only reason he hadn't kept his roll down was because it was forced into him. In his room, he felt full for the first time in months. Though he painfully felt the absence of his mother, Charlie was back in the real world. But would he be able to stay?

He was about to go to sleep when there was a knock on his door. When no one came in, Charlie got up from bed and opened the door. In the hall, Don stood with a suitcase in his hand.

"What's going on?" Charlie asked, his pulse slowly picking up speed.

"Well, I figure it's time for me to start living at my apartment again. I've been here long enough."

"B-b-but, why? Why now? Why do you have to go right now?"

Sensing his brother's fear, Don stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother's thin shoulder. "It's okay, Buddy. I'll be by all the time. You won't even notice I'm gone."

"But-"

"It's going to be okay, Charlie. I promise. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Don dropped his bag and hugged his brother.

"Nothing's going to change, okay? I just won't be here all day, like before. But if you ever need me, for anything, call me. Okay?"

Charlie nodded, looking away from his brother, hoping to hide his tears.

"You'll be okay."

"I... I'm going to bed now. Okay?" Still not looking at his brother, he turned his back on Don.

"Okay. Good night, Buddy."

Charlie closed the door behind him because the tears were already spilling down his face. Unable to hold it in, a sob escaped his lips. Charlie hadn't expected to have to fight on his own. When he returned to the real world, he knew that Don would be there to fight with him. And that way, he was sure to succeed. But if Don left, he would be truly on his own. How was he supposed to win now?

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Don stared at the closed door in front of him. When he heard his brother sob, he felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He leaned against the opposite wall facing his brother's room, and stared. What should he do now? It would make sense if he stayed for his brother. But he felt it was time to leave.

"Are you leaving?" Alan asked as he stepped outside of his room. He walked up to his oldest son, watching him with a knowing gaze.

"Yeah. I'm going to head back to my apartment."

Alan nodded. "I understand. Donny, you have been such a help these last few months. I... I can't thank you enough."

"It's okay, Dad. You know I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Alan smiled sadly. "I know."

Pausing, Alan looked at his son, proud of Don's strength.

"Well, I guess you'd better go."

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, though, okay?"

"Okay."

Alan reached out and hugged his son in a tight embrace. "Be careful."

"I will."

Alan hoped so... because he wasn't sure what he'd do if something else happened to his family.

**Sorry for the delay. It's the end of the school week, so I finally got time to wrap this chapter up. Still more to come. I think I'll extend it a little more. Not much, maybe two chapters. But that's still more than I planned. I hope you all are still enjoying. Run out of tissues yet:-D**


	5. When The Truth Is Put In Front Of You

**NOTE: I got a review about Charlie's selfishness over this whole thing. In case anyone else has any feelings about this, let me explain. Charlie isn't being selfish so much as he's feeling really guilty over how he handled the situation with his mother. Also, he doesn't really recognize Don's pain, though he understands how hard it must be, because Don is not showing his brother his pain. See? I hope this makes sense. I am willing to discuss this with anyone if you disagree or don't understand. Okay? And this chapter was already planned before the review. LOL I sometimes forget that you don't know the big picture, just me. Thanks for reading.**

Despite what Don had promised, Don did not come over to the Eppes house the next day... or the next day, or the next.

Charlie wasn't sure he'd be able to make it without his brother. He survived the first day without Don, knowing that before the day was done, his brother would be by to see him. When that happened, he let it go because he knew Don was a busy, important man. However, when the next day passed without any word from Don, Charlie started to get worried. Then when Don wasn't there the day after that, Charlie started losing his fight.

As much as Charlie wanted to be strong, he wasn't able to be strong on his own. His mind knew things that everyone else didn't, and it used it against him. Charlie couldn't forgive himself when he was reminded of all the things his mother had done for him, and what he wouldn't do for her. There was no way to escape it. He had to go back.

Stumbling forward, Charlie left his room. As his brain started punishing him again, he put his hands over his ears, trying to silence the taunts that went on in his head. Rushing out of the house, Charlie ran the short distance to the garage and quickly closed the door behind him. Burying his mind in P vs. NP, Charlie left the world behind as he found shelter in his own mind. It didn't seem right that his only comfort came from his own enemy. He wanted to be able to fight, but without his mother and his brother, Charlie didn't know how he could fight. It wasn't like Alan was there. Charlie understood why, and didn't hold it against him. He knew that his father was hurting just like him, but together they wouldn't get better. They would only feel worse. It would take a brighter light to chase away the dark places in their hearts.

Losing sight of what was real, Charlie spent the next two days inside the garage. With only the three days outside of the garage to sustain him, his skeletal form remained. He forgot that Don didn't come over, forgot that his father hurt. All he knew was that he had to solve P vs. NP, though, now, he couldn't tell you why.

Although Alan still felt the pain of losing his wife, he slowly became able to move on as normal. As he broke out of his despair, he noticed that Charlie was gone again. When he realized where he had gone, he knew it was time to call in backup.

Alan waited patiently for Don to answer his cell phone. When he didn't, he called the FBI Los Angeles headquarters. He was told that Don hadn't been in within the last two days. Becoming concerned, Alan dialed the only other number he could think of, and that was Don's apartment.

After eight rings, Alan feared the worst. However, on the ninth, Don answered.

"H-hello?"

Something was wrong. As soon as Alan heard his son's voice, he knew that with complete certainty. "Donny? What's wrong?"

His only response was a broken sob. "I'm coming over."

Without giving Don a moment to argue, Alan hung up. He quickly headed to the garage, not at all surprised that he didn't get any recognition when he came barging in. Hoping his son would understand what was going on, Alan fought to get Charlie's attention.

"Charlie! Something's wrong with Don. We need to go now."

Charlie paused a moment, chalk in hand. He shook his head and then started writing again. Alan stomped his foot impatiently.

"Charlie! Didn't you hear me? Something is wrong with your brother. He needs you."

Again Charlie paused, this time dropping the piece of chalk. He slowly turned to Alan, raising his eyes to his father's. "D-Don?"

Alan sighed, thankful that he had broken through. "Yes. Don needs you. Are you coming? He's at his apartment."

Turning from the chalkboard with more determination than Alan expected, Charlie left the garage, quickly getting into his father's car. Impatiently, he waited for Alan to join him as he sat in the front seat.

Alan was momentarily stunned with his son's sudden change. When that passed, he quickly reached the car and began to drive off.

Running a few red lights without being caught, Alan made it to Don's apartment. Before the car came even near a complete stop, Charlie had opened the door and was running up the steps to Don's apartment. Soon he found the door partially open, scaring and surprising him. He pushed the door open wide and searched the room quickly, and soon he found his brother in his bedroom, lying on the floor. Sweat and tears covered Don's body as he laid face down on the floor. Rushing to Don's side, Charlie gripped his brother's shoulders in a supporting grip, but he didn't think his brother even noticed.

Don hadn't been prepared for it to hit him so hard. He had been find for the first few weeks, had managed to keep his feelings in check. But with one short message, his world had crumbled and he had broken into tiny unfixable pieces.

He had just gotten home for work Tuesday evening. Afraid he might have missed a call from the office, he checked his voice mail, only to find a hidden message that he had somehow missed from his mother.

_"Hi, honey. It's Mom. I just wanted to remind you to pick up some juice from the store before you come home. I hate to make your father do anything else. I know you're working hard, too. Thank you, Donny. You've been such a help. You always have. Just keep taking care of your brother. Your father and I can handle each other. You boys look out for each other, okay? Well, I'll see you soon. Have a good day. I love you."_

When the message ended, Don stood, frozen in place. It took a minute for him to process what he had just heard. His mother's voice brought on a wave of emotions he had held back, and now, all at once, they were set free.

Lying on the floor, sobbing into the soft grey carpet, Don suddenly felt someone gripping his shoulders. Wondering who it was, he turned over and found his brother's gaunt face full of worry and determination.

"B-buddy? What are you doing here?"

Charlie smiled warmly at his brother and rubbed his hand against his brother's upper arm. "I'm here for you, Don. Whatever you need, I'm here."

Don nodded, and another river of tears rushed down his face. Charlie understood exactly how his brother was feeling, and he reached out and hugged Don, holding his brother against his slender form.

As Don was wrapped in his brother's supporting arms, he began to sob. He pressed his face into his brother's shoulder, trying to quiet the sobs that became louder and louder. By the time Alan entered, Don was shaking uncontrollably.

Knowing his youngest wasn't strong enough to support himself and Don's weight, Alan reached out to take Don away from Charlie. However, with just one look, Charlie stayed his father's movements. Alan couldn't remember ever seeing such a determined look on Charlie's face. Charlie wasn't about to leave Don now. Alan could help share the burden, but the three of them were in this together. He wasn't going to sit back and make his father take it all on himself. He owed it to his brother. He owed it to his father... But mostly, Charlie owed it to his mother.

Don couldn't remember feeling so comforted in a long time. That was mostly his own fault, since he never allowed anyone to see his true feelings. But with the death of his mother, he couldn't imagine not letting them see. It was too hard to hide it when he felt such anguish. Don still needed his mother. Though he had spent years without her, he had always known if he needed her for something, she was just a phone call away. Now she was gone. He could never call her again. What would happen when he had a family of his own? He knew he'd need her advice on how to handle his children, like he did with Charlie. And now she'd never see her grandkids, or her future daughter-in-law. None of that would happen. And the future seemed pretty bleak because of it.

Though Charlie's strength threatened to waver, he held his brother with equal support. As Don's tears finished off, soon he was freed from Don's extra weight. When Don pushed back, Charlie moved so that his back was to his brother's wall, and he slumped against it. Alan kept a close eye on his oldest son as Don seemed to gather his resolve.

"I... I'm sorry to worry you two. I'm okay," Don said with a weak voice.

"No, Donny. You're not all right." Alan's face held concern as he looked his oldest son in the eye. He knew that Don wasn't okay. And he felt guilty for not realizing it sooner.

"Don, why didn't you say something sooner? You can't carry things like this on your own," Charlie put in from his place against the wall.

"I never want to be a burden on the two of you. I know you both have enough pain without me adding mine. I don't... I don't do this. I don't let people see this. I see others' cries. I'm the one who listens to others as they cry. I... I don't usually do this."

"I know, Donny. But you are allowed. Just because you don't doesn't mean your pain isn't there, or any less important. There are three of us, in case you hadn't noticed. We can share the burden equally together. Understand?"

With tears in his eyes, Don gave a small smile and nodded. He never wanted to force his misery on someone else, even if it was his family. But it had felt good to be held, comforted. He knew it was okay to let go sometimes, but that didn't mean he would. Now, though, Don thought he might a little more often... a little.

Turning to the one who'd held him, Don noticed his little brother's still-guant face. He was surprised to see that his brother hadn't gained any strength in the time he had been away. Realizing why that was, Don frowned at his little brother.

"Charlie? What happened?"

Knowing what his brother meant, Charlie turned away from Don. He didn't want to see the confusion on Don's face, knowing the underlying question. Yes, he had gone back to the garage. Yes, he had broken once more. But Don didn't need that right now. It was his time, not Charlie's.

Alan gripped his son's shoulder as he stood up off the floor. "What do you say we head home? I think I might be able to cook us something to fill all our stomachs." He purposely looked at Charlie with the last part of his sentence. Again, Charlie avoided eye contact.

Don stood after his father and looked to Charlie to get up. When he didn't, Don wondered if something was wrong.

"Buddy? You coming?"

Alan had already gone out the door, assuming his sons were right behind him.

"Yeah. Go ahead. I'll be right there." Charlie didn't want Don to see the struggle it would take for him to get on his feet again, since his legs felt like jelly.

Don did, but he waited at the door, which he left open just enough that he could still see Charlie. Watching his brother have to cling to his bed to get up, Don felt a measure of concern. He knew something was wrong when his brother didn't get up right away. To get a few seconds alone with his father, Don went downstairs to the parking lot and into his father's car.

"I wondered what was taking you two so long. Where's Charlie?"

"He's still up there. Hey, Dad, is something wrong with Charlie?"

Alan frowned. "Yeah. For the past two days he's been in the garage again. I don't think he got nearly enough food in his when he was back in the house. I mean, he still didn't eat but a meal or so a day. I tried to get him to eat more, but I found whole sandwiches in the garbage. Something isn't right. Just today, when I told him something was wrong with you, did he come out. He hasn't eaten in two days, but I've never seen someone move so fast than he did today when he knew you needed him."

Don's heart warmed at the idea. Charlie was strong for him? He didn't think his brother had it in him. Smiling to himself, he waited on Charlie to come down the steps. When a couple minutes past without Charlie coming down, Don got worried and hurried back up to his apartment.

Don flung the door open and found Charlie clutching the edge of his couch, that being as far as he had made it. Don sighed, realizing his brother's stubborn side was taking over once more.

"Are you okay, Buddy?"

Charlie nodded, once he saw his brother looking at him. He let go of the couch, trying to look normal, but his knees buckled underneath him and he slowly sank to the floor.

"Oh, Charlie," Don cried as he came up to his little brother. Don held out his hand to Charlie, and, embarrassed, Charlie took it.

Pulling his brother to a standing position, Don wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders, holding Charlie up. He let his brother lean on him as they made their way down the stairs and into their father's car. Alan looked worriedly at Charlie and wondered why his youngest was unable to make it to the car without Don's help. Leaving it alone for the time being, he pulled out of the parking lot and trove them home.

Upon arrival, Don helped Charlie into the living room and onto the couch, while Alan went to the kitchen to start their supper. Sitting across from his brother, Don sank into the rocking chair and watched his brother with a critical eye.

"Say it already," Charlie said after several minutes of awkward silence.

"Say what?" Don asked.

"You've had something on your mind since we were at your apartment. You might as well say it already."

Don paused, thinking about what he was going to say. "What happened while I was gone, Buddy? Why aren't you strong enough to hold yourself up?"

Charlie shivered involuntarily, wondering how he was going to respond. "You... you weren't here... like you said you would. I-I thought I could make it on my own, but I couldn't. It had been three days since I saw you and I... I just had to get away. It's not going to happen again. I know that now. But... I really needed you those first few days."

"Charlie, all you had to do was ask me and I would have stayed. I would have come over, but I got busy. I wanted to, but I was barely getting enough sleep as it was. If I had a spare minute, I spent it resting. I didn't mean to abandon you, Buddy."

"I know that. You're an important man, I know. I don't hold it against you. It's my fault I'm so weak."

Don chuckled, thinking it funny how his brother didn't even realize his own strength. "Charlie, you couldn't stand on your own two feet, but before that, you ran to get to me, you held me up when I couldn't hold myself. Do you realize what strength that takes? 'Cause I do. It isn't easy. Obviously, if it had been any other situation, you wouldn't have been able to stand up. But you were able to hold both of us up. You have strength, Buddy. You may not see it, but I do."

Charlie gave his brother a small smile. "Thanks."

Leaning back against the couch, Charlie closed his eyes, feeling tired. Don left a moment, allowing his brother time to rest. He went in the kitchen and help his father prepare the fried chicken, and then came back to sit with his brother. Charlie's eyes were closed a the soft sound of snoring could be heard. Don smiled, pleased that his brother was getting some sleep. He was sure Charlie hadn't slept in the two days he'd been in the garage. He, too, hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few days. And before he knew it, Don had fallen asleep as well.

Alan came out of the kitchen for the first time since they got home, and what he saw surprised him. He smiled as he saw both his sons asleep in the living room. Though he hated to disturb their peaceful slumber, it was time for them to eat. He waited until he had served them to come back and get them. He woke Don first, and then went to wake Charlie.

Though upset because his sleep had been interrupted, Charlie managed to eat well that night. The three of them shared pleasant conversation, and for the first time in a long time, things felt normal at their house... which that night, became a home once more.

**Whoa, it's been forever, I know. Though I just finished the second week of school, I'm already busy. Plus, I got the season three dvd of Numb3rs Tuesday... Explanation enough, right? LOL**

**In the next chapter, I should be able to wrap things up. I'm going to go a little off of what seems to be implied and have a confrontation between Don and Charlie about how Don was upset about Charlie staying away and Charlie's explanation of why he did it. It'll be very heated and angsty, but it will settle things between them. I hope you'll all enjoy it.**

**And OMG, how many of you screamed during the premiere? I did! Oh, I am soooo relieved! YAY! If anyone wants to talk about it, send me a message!**

**See ya next chpater!**


	6. How Do You Hide What Really Happened?

It had been over a month since Margaret's death. Her men finally started feeling all right without her. Charlie had started eating regularly, and his skeletal form had almost filled out once more. The three of them were finally feeling normal again, but there was still tension between Don and Charlie. As the tension built, their relationship became strained. And when it got to be too much, they couldn't keep their thoughts at bay.

Charlie was in the garage, working on some equations for the upcoming semester at CalSci. He had pushed the chalkboards full of P vs. NP aside. He'd copy what he'd done down later, but not now. He still couldn't look at it, for it brought back the memories of his pain. That pain was still there, but it had diminished to a dull ache. When he thought of his mother and what he'd done to her, he still hurt from guilt. But he had finally been able to let himself off the hook for a while.

Charlie was surprised when his brother came inside the garage. It was the middle of the day, and Don rarely came over unless it was at night. He turned to his brother, wondering if something wrong.

"You okay?" Charlie asked when Don just stood there.

"Yeah. I'm fine, Buddy. Why?"

"Well, you just don't usually come over during the day. I was just wondering."

"No. I'm fine. Am I not allowed to come over?" Don smiled.

"No! Of course you are. That's not what I meant."

Don shrugged and walked toward the chalkboard Charlie was working at. "What's this? P vs. NP?"

A muscle in Charlie's jaw twitched. "No. It's for CalSci."

"Oh."

Charlie started to write again, but it was hard to do when his brother was staring a hole through him. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"No. I was just thinking about something."

"What's that?"

Don looked away. "Nothing."

Charlie looked at his brother pointedly, annoyed. It always came to this. Don would be thinking something about Charlie, but would never speak it. It was about time they got it out of the way, rather than letting it grow.

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"What's got you so pissed off at me."

I light flashed in Don's eyes and Charlie could see his brother was debating whether to do so or not. It was clear what his decision was.

"I'll tell you why I'm pissed. What the hell were you thinking when you ignored Mom for three months? Huh? You were being selfish! You couldn't even come see her once! ONE TIME, Charlie! That was all she needed. But, no, you had to stay in the garage and wilt away. She needed you, Charlie, and you let her down. And instead of taking care of yourself at the same time, NO, you had to ignore your health and make me and Dad take care of you, too. We had our hands full already, Charlie! We didn't need to take care of you, too!" Don screamed angrily, hiding his true feelings: abandonment and hurt.

"I never asked you to look after me!"

"Oh, like we had a choice. You are so dense. Do you think Mom would have let us just leave you out there? If she had had enough strength, she would have taken care of you herself. But she couldn't, so we had to! You stopped living, Charlie. And your family was still here. Did you ever think of that? While you were in your own damn world, we were watching Mom die. Hell, she probably would have lived longer if she hadn't had to worry about you, too!"

"So that's what this is about. You're blaming me for Mom's death?" Charlie's heart pounded in his chest.

"NO! I'm mad because you couldn't think of anyone other than yourself for one minute! You never went to see Mom. You never took care of yourself. You didn't help at all! How do you think that made me feel? I had to watch as I lost my mother and my little brother at the same time. You weren't there, Charlie. You left us, when we all needed you. I needed you, Charlie. But I guess that didn't matter to you did it?"

"Of course it mattered! Do you think it was easy for me? I didn't want to leave! Yes, I hated to see Mom suffer. I knew it was going to kill me. But I was willing to let that happen, if it meant I could bring her some happiness. I fought, Don!! I fought, but I couldn't win!"

"You sure as hell made it look like it was easy for you to leave!"

Charlie glared at his brother as his anger grew. He stomped up to his brother and shoved him hard in the chest. "Don't say that! Don't ever say that!" Charlie shoved again, startling Don.

"I loved Mom! Leaving her was the hardest thing I've ever done. She's always been there for me! And what do I do? I left her. I couldn't be there just once. But I wanted to, Don! I wanted to take care of her, like she'd done for me my whole life. But... but when it came down to watching her die, I knew I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I-I-I stuck around the first few months, when I knew there was still hope, still time. But when we knew we were going to lose her... my mind raged war against me. It told me that I wouldn't get hurt. That I'd be all right if I just left, if I worked on math. And so the numbers just started flooding in until I couldn't see anything else. I convinced myself that if I could just solve P vs. NP, Mom would be better, cured. It was the only way I could let myself work on it. The numbers just started controlling my life. I couldn't think without the numbers, I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't drink. There was only P vs. NP, nothing else. I couldn't leave the garage if I wanted to. I was... I was a slave to it. I wanted to be there, Don... but I wasn't strong enough."

Charlie turned and sobbed. "I couldn't be strong enough, even though Mom was always strong enough for me. I couldn't help her. I failed. I was too late. I never even solved P vs. NP... and I never got to say goodbye... I... I never told her how much I loved her."

Charlie turned his back on his brother and sank to the floor. He hugged himself, doubling over as the tears took over.

Don stepped forward toward his little brother, shocked at Charlie's explanation. "Buddy-"

Sensing Don's presence behind him, Charlie turned his face away, hiding his tears. "Don't look at me."

Don gently laid his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Don't! Don't look at me!" Charlie shrugged his brother's hand off.

Don knelt beside his brother, stretching his arm across his little brother's back.

"No. No, Don. Don't."

Ignoring his brother, Don took Charlie in his arms, hugging him. Charlie fought, pushing at Don's arms. Charlie knew he didn't deserve comfort. "Don't! Don't!"

Not letting his brother win, Don tightened his hold around his little brother, pressing Charlie close. Submitting to his brother's embrace, Charlie began to shake as he let the tears and sobs come. He pressed his face into his brother's neck as he grasped desperately at his brother's shirt, as if he were drowning in his guilt and Don was the only lifesaver.

Charlie sobbed brokenly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Sh." Don moved his hand up and down his brother's upper back, trying to soothe Charlie.

"I failed her."

"Sh." Don let his brother cry out his regrets. Don realized that he had accused his little brother of the things that Charlie had been already beating himself up over. For that, he felt sorry.

Charlie cried as his miseries came rushing through his head. He cried over his guilt, his regret. He cried because he was mad at himself for being too weak. And he cried because he had lost his mother, the only one who truly understood him, and the one he had let down.

"I sh-should have been there. How could I have been so selfish?" Charlie sobbed, shaking all over.

Don pressed his hand to the back of Charlie's head, pushing so that his brother's head was resting against his shoulder. He held his brother tightly to him, and Charlie muffled his cries against Don's shirt.

Hoping that the tears would help Charlie, Don held his brother for several minutes, listening to his brother's anguished cries of regret and sorrow. Don realized that his brother was even more mad at himself than he had been at his little brother. He felt bad for adding to Charlie's emotional distress. He hoped that his brother would be okay now.

When Charlie was able to compose himself, he pushed out of his brother's embrace. Embarrassed, he kept his eyes downcast. He hoped that Don understood now.

"I... I know why you were mad at me. Please, try to understand why I did it. I know it's no excuse, but please, know that I wasn't just out here for fun. It was hard for me to be away. But when I was safe in my own world, I didn't see reason to return to the real one. I know that was wrong and that was selfish of me. But Mom... I loved her, Donny. I loved her so much. I couldn't stand to see her die. I just couldn't. Please, try to understand that."

Don nodded, a wet glaze over his eyes. "I understand, Buddy. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Charlie shrugged. "I deserved it."

Awkwardly, Don remained silent. He didn't want to agree with his brother, but he couldn't deny that he felt that Charlie had at the time.

"You ready to go in?"

"Sure." Charlie stood and followed his brother outside the garage and inside the house. Alan was in the kitchen putting away groceries when his sons came through the back door.

"Where have you two been?" he asked, smiling at his sons.

"Just in the garage."

"Oh. I'm going to start supper here soon. I hope you're hungry for steak."

"Red meat? Are you kidding, Dad? When are we not?" Don asked, smiling back at his father.

"You get that from me." Alan winked.

Charlie walked through the kitchen and made his way to the stairs to go up to his room. He felt better knowing that his brother had an understanding of why he did what he did. He hoped that it wouldn't become an issue between him and Don. Charlie really wanted Don to understand what he went through, but he knew that the only one who would have, would have been his mother. But she was gone. So maybe no one ever would.

After supper, Alan asked for his sons to wait for him in the living room. Since today marked the seventh week since Margaret's death, Alan thought it was time for them to pay her a visit. He had picked up flowers that day to place at her grave sight. He hoped his sons would be okay with the idea.

Don and Charlie were watching a hockey game when Alan walked into the living room. Seeing the seriousness on his father's face, Don turned off the TV and waited.

"As you both know, it's been seven weeks since your mother died. I thought it would be nice if we all went and paid her a visit."

"Sure, Dad. That sounds like a good idea." Don felt guilty for not having stopped sooner. He turned to his little brother, who looked hesitant about the idea.

"That okay with you, Charlie?" Don asked.

"Yeah. That's fine."

Alan smiled. "Good. I'll get the flowers. You boys get in the car."

After locking the house and bringing the flowers out, Alan got into the car and sat behind the wheel, handing Charlie, in the back seat, the flowers. The trip to the cemetery was made in silence. However, Charlie's mind was loud and clear. He wasn't sure what he'd do or say. Would his mother hear him? Would she understand? If so, he hoped he could show her how sorry he was.

Alan pulled along the lot that he and his wife had bought for their family a few years ago. He looked at Don, and silently let his son know that he should go first. Charlie handed him one of the three white roses and Don got out of the car.

Walking over to his mother's tombstone seemed awkward. He looked down at the marker, and wondered what he was going to say. But once he began, the words all seemed to come.

"Hi, Mom. I'm sorry I haven't come sooner. I should have, but I didn't. I know you understand. You always did... I'm sorry I was gone so much, during college and with my FBI training. There was no excuse for it. You always understood and said it didn't matter, but it did. I should have made more of an effort. I know you did. You had your subtle way of telling me I'd been gone too long, or that you missed me. But you'd never come right out and ask me to come home. You let me make my own decisions. I wish I had listened to you more often. I should have been around more. If I had known I had so little time with you..." Don paused to wipe his eyes. "I should have tried harder. Maybe it would have made a difference, or no difference at all. But I would have felt better if I had come over more. At the time I thought what I needed was to get away. I thought all I needed was me..."

Don's face scrunched in pain as tears began to spill down his face. "But I needed you. I always needed you. I didn't realize it until you were gone, but I always needed you. And I need you now. I know that I can't see you now, and I wish I had seen you more earlier. Maybe that would have made it right. But I wish I had realized how much I need my family... how much I need my mom."

Don coughed roughly, trying to hide that he'd been crying. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I wasn't there so many times. I love you so much. Please, know that. No matter how many times I was gone, no matter how long, I always loved you, even if I thought I didn't need you."

Not knowing what else to say, Don silently turned and walked back to the car.

Alan turned around and looked at his youngest son. "It's your turn, Charlie."

Charlie nodded, handing his father a rose and taking him with me. He passed Don on his way and patted his brother's shoulder as he walked by. Don got in the car and stared out the window at a tree in the distance. He was afraid to make eye contact with his father, afraid that Alan would see the tears.

Charlie solemnly stepped up to his mother's gravestone. He sank down on his knees and stared at the carvings that made up his mother's name.

"Hi, Mom." With one sentence the tears began. "I'm, uh, sorry for a lot of things. I can't believe how selfish I was when you were dying. I should have been there for you. I should have taken care of you. I never should have left your side... But I was scared." Charlie cried. "I didn't want to lose you. And watching you die would have been the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I know that doesn't make up for it, and I shouldn't use that as an excuse. But you were always there for me. I was always closer to you than Dad, or even Don. You understood me, Mom. No one else did. And no one else does. Without you, now there's no one who understands me the way you did. I should have been there because we were closer. I should have stayed close to you until the end... But I didn't want to lose you. And I thought that maybe if I worked on P vs. NP, somehow that would save you. I know that that's impossible, but my mind made me believe it. I couldn't see the real world for all the numbers. They took over, and I let them, because numbers are safe. Numbers don't lie. And numbers are always there... And knowing that you weren't going to be there forever terrified me."

Charlie ran the back of his hand across his eyes to wipe the tears away. "If I could do things over, I would in a heartbeat. I'd stay with you every chance I had. I'd never let you down like I did before." Charlie sobbed, feeling the overwhelming guilt. "The only thing I can hope is that since you always knew me best, maybe you knew why I was gone. Maybe you knew that I did really love you, and it wasn't because I didn't that I stayed away. Because I do love you, Mom. I love you so much. And it's because of that that I couldn't stand to watch you die. Losing you was the hardest thing I've ever had to go through. I need you, Mom. But now you're gone. And I'm so sorry that I wasn't a better son. I'm so sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I wasn't there. Please know that I love you. I love you so much, Mom."

Hanging his head low, Charlie walked back to the car. Alan was already passing him before he got to the car. Don stood outside the car, leaning against the passenger door. When Charlie came up to him, Don held out his arms. Charlie gratefully stepped into his brother's embrace and hugged his older brother back. He knew that Don had forgiven him at that point, and it made all the difference to him.

Alan reached his wife's grave with a somber face. But for a moment he paused and looked up and at the car. There, he saw his two sons embrace, and he had to smile. Turning to his wife's grave, he gave him wife a smile.

"It's hard to believe, but, Margaret, somehow, your men are going to make it without you."

**Aw, the end! Aren't you sad? LOL I really enjoyed exploring this time in the Eppes' lives. I thought it was a very sad story, but the emotion was so interesting and beautiful to write. I hope you liked it. How many of you cried during every chapter? LOL I did for most of them. I did for this one, especially with Don's talk with his mother. I don't know why. I'm sorry it took me so long to update. School has been hectic already! **

**Well, I hope you had fun. I'm not sure what I'm doing next, but you'll hear from me soon. See you then!**


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